


Heaven, Hell, And All The Space In Between

by Taim



Series: Fandomstuck Smut Series [5]
Category: Fandomstuck - Fandom
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, M/M, Punishment, Riding Crops, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 19:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7544422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taim/pseuds/Taim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Nat just needs to let go. Homestuck is always there to catch him as he falls. </p><p>Sometimes, Homestuck is the one pushing him down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heaven, Hell, And All The Space In Between

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt by anonymous: "since you have supertaliastuck what about having superstuck and them doing bdsm together?"
> 
> Mentions of this lovely fic by letmegeekatyou: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1201621 (Sam/Cas with wing bondage in the last chapter)

It started with a fic. Well two fics. One where Cas was captured and interrogated in the most sexual and humiliating way, another involving wing bondage, and Nat had been thinking about it since. And when an angel thinks too much, his…. enemy tends to pick up on it very quickly.

 

And then it turned into this. An angel on his knees, ropes around his wrists and spreading his arms out on either side above his head, legs spread wide and strapped down onto the padded mat. His wings were pinned as well, a harness forcing them to stay folded and pinned tightly together against his back. He shuddered at every thought of the custom wing-binder, remembering the weeks it had taken just for him to be able to wear it for more than a minute, the months as he slowly adjusted and finally let his boyfriend touch him in it. It wasn’t exaggeration to say that the fanfic was correct when it described the exquisite and unbearable sensation of leather against feathers, brushing and rubbing and pulling on every sensitive place.

And now they were here, Nat helpless while Homestuck pretended to be a demon who had caught him. Right now, it felt like heaven and hell were both raging in his gut.

He felt open, exposed, completely vulnerable to the… the creature prowling in the shadows of the room. Green eyes flashed with animalistic hunger and Nat swallowed hard. Adrenaline surged through him, not helping the way his cock was standing at full attention or the needy ache between his legs, the toy that seemed too big to go in him earlier not near enough anymore. He trembled, a soft whine never seeming to leave his throat. It was too much, far, far too much and he couldn’t take it.

“Give in yet, angel..?”

A shudder ripped through him at that voice and he tried, for the hundredth time, to pull his legs closed if only to get some friction. He had to swallow to actually make his voice come out, the word so weak as he spat (whined), “Never!”

He suppressed another shudder as his captor stepped into the light, eyes glinting with lust, horns gleaming in the light, pointed teeth showing over the troll’s lips as he smiled down at the bound man.

“Just more time for us to play…”

“You’re sick!”

“And you love it…” The words are emphasized with a stroke along Nat’s weeping cock, thumb brushing over the slit. It gets a hiss from the angel, body twitching forward and begging for more. But just as soon as the contact is there, it’s gone again, the troll pulling away and sinking back into the ring of shadows around the room. It’s so hard to see like this, that blinding light right above him making it near impossible to look past the edges of its glow.

His whole body jerks as there’s a sharp snap in the air, pain blooming from the strike across his lower shoulders. A breathy moan slips out and he doesn’t even try to stop it. A hit so close to his wings, while he couldn’t do anything but float in the rush of hormones. God, he shouldn’t be so close to his climax already. He’s barely even been touched…

“Filthy… No wonder you ended up here with me… You’re no better than a human, worse even. Unclean. Unholy.”

Another lash across his back, a little lower, just under a shoulder blade. It rips a jagged gasp from him and he arches into the feeling, head bowed as he pants for breath. He can hear the end of the toy (a riding crop from the sound of it) slapping lightly against the other’s palm, a disapproving ‘tsk’ following each ‘thi, thi, thi.’

“Disgusting. You’re no angel.”

“N-no, I am!”

He gasps again as a third strike makes him arch, almost finished right there. Oh god, it’s so close, one more and he’s sure Homestuck is gonna hit his wings and he’s not sure if he’s going to pass out or scream if it happens.

“You’re not an angel. Say it.”

“No!”

A fourth mark joins those already forming, quicker than the others and feeling like it’s mere inches from his feathers.

“Say it.”

“N- never!”

Another lashing that sends electricity straight to the angel’s gut, heat spreading across his back and pulsing between his legs. Oh god, he’s gonna finish from being whipped with a riding crop. The shame of it almost pushes him over anyways.

“Now!” The order is given at the same time the toy meets his back again, a hair’s breadth above the base of his wings. It’s the breaking point for him and the words tumble out before the sound of the blow is even gone from the air.

“I’m no–” A sob cuts him off, his body twitching and begging for release. He tries and fails not to moan as a perfectly timed shift makes the toy inside him rub deliciously against his prostate. “I- I’m no angel. I’m dirty, I’m filthy, I’m– I’m–” He looks up, eyes locking on the face of his captor, suddenly in front of him and staring with those piercing green eyes.

He’s never been this defenseless, never this broken in such a dark scene, even in their other games. It’s intoxicating. He feels like he’s burning and yet all he wants is more. His head drops, bowed as he trembles, eyes closed, sobbing softly.

There’s a touch on his shoulder and then a hand under his chin, tilting his head back to look up at the other. The scene fades for just a second as the troll murmurs, “Take a breath. What color are we at?”

Nat does as he’s told, too lost in the haze to really think about it. He breathes in deeply, eyes fluttering closed as he leans into the hands that have moved up to cup and stroke his cheeks. When his eyes open again, Homestuck is still watching him closely.

“…Y-yellow. I’m okay, just… I’m almost…”

The troll watches him for a few more moments and Nat nods to reassure him. Homestuck nods in return but doesn’t pull away just yet. Those slender, grey hands brush over the angel’s neck and shoulders slowly, calming them both down and bringing the bound man back from the edge ever so gently. After a while, he can’t help but lean into the touches, humming softly in contentment. These moments of calm were nice, so comforting, even when sometimes Nat wished the other would just keep going. In the long run, they made it all much sweeter. And they made it much easier to hold on to what was real…

“How much longer do you want this to last…” The words aren’t unusual, common between them during moments like this. This lasted as long as Nat wanted it to and not a second more or less. It was one of the things that made it so easy for him to trust the troll during such powerful scenes.

“Not much… Please, I want… I want the crop…”

“Nat, are yo-”

“Please. please, I need it… Punish me…”

There’s a hesitancy in the troll’s eyes but it fades when he sees Nat’s eagerness. He wants it so bad, and he’s definitely sure about it…

“….Ready to get started again then..?”

“Yeah. Yes. Please….” His voice pitches up into a slight whine at the end, so needy that Homestuck couldn’t refuse him now if he had wanted to.

“Shhh… I’ll make sure you get all you want…”

There’s a light in the troll’s eyes that makes it clear that they’re back in the scene, his knuckles white as he picks the crop back up and curls his hand around the handle.

“You’re nothing more than a toy, Nathaniel…“ A gasp slips out of the angel. To know that- "It took me so long to find your real name…” The crop snaps against Homestuck’s palm. “The ‘Gift of God,’ kneeling at my feet. The so-called ‘Angel of Fire.’ The only fire here is hellfire, boy.” A pause and then a soft chuckle. “Well, besides the desire obviously burning in you.”

There’s a sound of protest from him but it’s suddenly cut off as Nat gasps hard. Cool, grey fingers wrap around his length, blazing green eyes suddenly much, much closer than they were before. The troll hardly ever used his teleportation powers and it was easy to forget about them because of it. But with those oh, so talented fingers squeezing and rubbing over him, circling the base and brushing over the tip as they pump him slowly, neither were really thinking about that.

“What, angel? You obviously want it so much…” The words are growled, deep and rough, sending a shudder of heat right to the pit of Nat’s stomach. But then the other’s voice drops into a low purr and it’s all he can do to keep upright. “Let me dirty you just a little bit more…”

The captured angel trembles near violently, knees going weak as he sags against his restraints, breath rushing out in a choked sob, head bowed. “Ple- ease…” He cries out again, a long, drawn-out sound as his hips buck forward against the fingers teasing his length oh, so delicately now. “Ple- _ease…_! I need…”

“What do you need?” When the bound man does no more than tremble and whine, Homestuck wraps his fingers around the base of his cock, squeezing hard and tight for just a moment before releasing him again, demanding, “Say it!”

It only takes a heartbeat for Nat to gasp and blurt the words. “I need you-! I n- need _you-_ Ple- ease– Please m- more-” The begging is frantic and broken in several places as he sucks in a breath, whining and arching to get as close to the other as he can. The sound turns into a keen as his wings twitch and try to stretch, pressing hard against the bindings. “Ple- _eeeease,_ p- please, let me… I need… I _need_ it… Stu- uck–”

Another squeeze has Nat bucking against the touch, wings trembling against their bindings and puffing up as much as they can. “Stu- uck, I’m– I’m go- onna–”

“Wait…”

“Stu- uck, _please…_ ”

The hand on his cock pulls away suddenly and the angel absolutely breaks, sobbing and writhing and nearly screaming at the denial. He thrashes against the bindings like a man possessed, hips bucking toward a stimulant that wasn’t there anymore. He said he wanted this over soon, he didn’t want denial, he can’t take this, he _can’t_ -

Two vicious grey hands suddenly plunge into the puffy bases of his wings, gripping around the flesh and squeezing hard. The sound draws a shriek from him, shrill and wanton as his back arches slightly, torn between wanting more and getting away from that cruel, violent pleasure. He doesn’t have a choice though, not as he’s suddenly pulled back as far as his bindings allow. The tugging on the amazingly sensitive limbs nearly finishes him right then and there, but he holds on through nothing but a sheer miracle.

However, he’s not so lucky the next moment when the crop strikes _hard_ across his outer thigh, right on the fleshy part. So lost in the sensations, he didn’t even notice one hand pulling away and picking the toy back up. It comes down on him again, right as he feels breathing on his neck, the demon -Homestuck, he tries to remember, but he’s too deep in the scene to really believe it- pressed right against his back. Quick, searingly hot gasps bathe his throat in heat, somehow much more intense than the crop lashing across his thigh again.

Seconds turn into years during the onslaught of sensation, but finally he hears a growled _‘Now’._ There’s barely a moment of comprehension, just the blinding flash of release as his wing is clawed at and the crop comes down a final time.

He screams. He screams loud and long and over and over until his body gives up on trying to translate what he’s feeling into sound. His vision whites completely, Grace crackling down his wings and across his chest like lightning, He feels like he’s burning alive, loving every moment of it even while it’s agonizing in its power. Like heaven poured itself over him in a pool of molten white gold.

Time passes. He can’t tell how much. It has no meaning here. But he lasts through it in a haze of pleasure.

He comes back from what felt like the brink of oblivion to something hot and sticky coating his lower back, the troll’s moans and whines muffled against Nat’s neck as the other desperately jerks himself to his own finish. It helps him remember what is really happening, drawing him out of that cloud he was drifting in.

It’s the feeling of soft hands on his outer flight feathers that bring Nat back into the present fully, wincing slightly at the sensitivity. The hands pull back quickly, one brushing his shoulder in apology.

“Easy, easy… It’s me… It’s just us here…”

“St… uck…?”

“Yeah, it’s me… Come back to me, Nat…”

“Stuckie…”

“I’ve got you… Let’s get you out of this… One _hell_ of a round, wasn’t it…?”

“…..Did you… _really…_ just…?”


End file.
